


A Finer Art

by injeong



Series: Even After Death [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Fluff, M/M, idek, naruto - Freeform, post-death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injeong/pseuds/injeong
Summary: Death does strange things to one's mind and thoughts, as Obito is about to find out. Seemingly trapped in an endless space of time and annoying blankness .. basically he needs to find the something that will free them both.





	A Finer Art

The first thing Obito thinks when he wakes up again is?

 

“I'M BLIND!!” he shrieks, flapping his arms around, and for a moment it does seem like it - everything he can see is white. Blinding, unnaturally clean white. Nothing else anywhere. 

 

But then he sees his arms flapping around and realizes that okay, maybe he's not blind after all. 

 

He takes a good look down at himself. He's wearing  a pair of black, loose robes, kind of dark, dark brown really. His skin looks weird, even for someone who was crushed under a boulder and saved by some weird magic that white zetsu thingy did. Oh, and Madara. 

 

He looks a bit like -

 

“The Edo Tensei people?” He said aloud, and then shook his head. “Nah. I'm not dead. If I was dead, I'd remember it.” 

 

Then a bolt of confusion struck him as a sudden flood of images and sounds came crashing through his mental gates into his mind. “Wait -”

 

Madara?  _ Uchiha _ Madara? Alive? The Sage of Six Paths? The Fourth Ninja War? People dying? Somehow, was that  _ him _ , Uchiha Obito, standing next to a somehow reincarnated Uchiha Madara? What the hell was that  _ giant _ ten eyed ten tailed thing in the far side of the battle field? Good  _ lord _ , was that the First Hokage? What? And the Second?  _ And _ the Third? Minato sensei?  _ What _ ?

 

Those  _ can't _ be his memories. But Obito can't think what else they could be. 

 

He shakes his head again and stands up, and to his surprise he isn't as scared as he should be when he realized that he seems to be walking on empty air. White, glowing empty air. 

 

“So, I guess I died then?” He said to himself, feeling his clothes just to make sure they were there. “I wonder how I died. I hope it was a cool death.” Speaking aloud calms his nerves. Somewhat. Kakashi was always telling him off during their missions when he had been talking aloud instead of thinking in his head -

 

Hold on. 

 

Kakashi?  _ Rin _ ? 

 

There's something else he remembers. And just as the dagger of pain just pierced the tip of his heart, he saw a flicker of movement at the corner of his eye. Obito spun around.

 

Same brown-black cloak as his, long blond hair in a ponytail, half his face covered by his bangs, and it's unmistakable. 

 

“Deidara sempai!” He yelps before he can react. 

 

Whoops. He's not supposed to be Tobi anymore. Tobi never existed. But, somehow, there was always a bit of Obito in Tobi. And now, maybe, a bit of Tobi awoke inside Obito.

 

The blond turns around, like he's in no hurry, which of course he isn't, since they are both dead. God, it's weird thinking that. Deidara narrowes his eyes, after spinning in a few circles, presumably looking for Tobi that didn't exist anymore, Tobi who's never existed.

 

“You haven't seen an idiotic clumsy high pitched orange masked goofball running around here, have you?” 

 

Oh. The Tobi inside him is hurt to think that all he is to Deidara sempai is an idiotic clumsy high pitched orange masked goofball. 

 

“Uh - well you see, Sempai - I mean Deidara- I mean -” 

 

“Hold on.” Deidara marches straight up to him and Obito cowarda slightly - someone radiating such confidence was scary, even for a dead person. “You're not …” 

 

Obito suddenly feels self-conscious. 

 

“Nah, you're not. Never seen you before. And what would Tobi be doing here, anyway? Actually … on second thoughts, that idiot probably got himself killed off somewhere. It would be just like that stupid kid, especially since I became my own fine art and probably nobody in Akatsuki bothered to take care of him anymore …  _ why _ the Leader recruited him I can't imagine … no special abilities whatsoever …  _ completely _ useless for everything except annoying company, hm …” 

 

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Obito figited. “Um … I think I have some things to clear up with you, Sempai?” 

 

“Stop calling me Sempai, that's weird,” Deidara passes off dismissively. “Only Tobi calls me Sempai.” Pause. “ _ Called _ me semapi. Guess I'm dead now.  _ I _ turned into pure  _ art _ .” He looks pretty satisfied with himself, Obito thinks.

 

Even with the names that Deidara had been calling him unknowingly right in front of “Tobi", Obito felt somewhat happy that he was regarded as he only person to call him that.

 

Wait. 

 

_ What _ ?

 

“But what a waste,” Deidara mused, seemingly not taking any notice of Obito in front of him. “How dull the world will become without my splendid art, hm …”

 

“I bet you're regretting that you didn't manage to kill me with your art after all, Sempai!” The words are blurted out before he can stop them. Whoops. Again. 

 

Deidara turns his attention on him and starts looking, his blue eyes intense, and Obito squirms uncomfortably. This wasn't what he expected being dead to be like. Maybe Rin would see him, give him a lecture on his wrongdoings, or maybe Minato sensei would join them, or maybe he'd just be asleep forever, but certainly not being given a staredown by his past Akatsuki teammate.

 

“There's no way …” the blond huffs. He grabs his chin and yanks his head upwards, and Obito yelps, flailing his arms as he tried to get away. Then Deidara springs an unexpected move on him and throws him onto the floor which probably wasn't even solid in the afterlife or whatever, and locks his legs around his neck. Choking, Obito faintly remembers another time, another time back when they were alive when this happened, in a clearing, a green forest, blue sky. 

 

“Hm.” Letting go and climbing to his feet, Deidara dusts off his hands as Obito flops back, panting. “It  _ feels _ the same. Though I've never seen Tobi’s face, not really. That damn mask … shame I never got to poke something through that eye hole. Maybe a taste of my art would liven up that boring orange swirls, hm!” 

 

Obito doesn't know whether he's relieved or terrified that Deidara’s taste for “art” and the strange threats he always was throwing at him had not changed. And why the hell did Deidara know what he felt like? That's just … weird, but what was weirder was that he liked that fact. 

 

“Tobi?” 

 

“Err … maybe I should just explain it to you, sempai?” Obito can't see himself not calling the other sempai. Damn Tobi, he played that role too long. It's stuck. 

 

Deidara regards him with more interest than he's ever shown in him before. “Okay, Tobi.”

 

“Uh … I'm not - er - I'm not Tobi, for starters.” Obito takes one look at the blond ponytail's confused look and hurries in before he could start showing him his art again. “Tobi never existed. He was simply an alias that I created, a character that I would become in the presence of Akatsuki - except perhaps Nagato and Zetsu- one that would allow be to hide, even temporarily. Well, actually, my friend Swirly would be Tobi if you put it that way but  I like to think that I am a good enough actor to fool everyone  a by being “Tobi” who was a lot like my friend Swirly who by the way isn't  human he's like some kind of weird thing like my other friend white zetsu I don't really know ... Damn always having to use that voice … it was almost fun though. Like I was pranking you all - which, I suppose, I was - only you all died before I could show you. I outlived you all! Hehe -” 

 

_ Thwack _ .

 

“Don't forget you died too, dimwit,” Deidara snarls. “Tobi or not Tobi, you're still the idiot clumsy high pitched orange masked stupid teammate of mine.”

 

For some reason, the barrage of name calling lifts his heart a little, giving him the courage not to collapse under the icy blue stare that he was probably used to by now.

 

“Um - yeah. Well Sasuke and his teammates survived but they kinds left Akatsuki … oh, and Orochimaru it sort of alive too, but - but -” he stops after one look at Deidara's face. “Eep! Okay, okay! Uh - yeah. So - er - my real name.” And then he stops, because suddenly he's so unsure. 

 

Who  _ was _ he, really?

 

Uchiha Obito. That's who he was. He was Obito. But Obito died when he was crushed under the rock. Obito died when he collapsed to his knees by the side of the bloody corpse that had once been Rin, smiling, caring, lovely Rin. Obito died, his heart died. And then he became Madara.

 

Wandering around for more years, his face hidden under a mask not entirely different from the one he used when he was Tobi, he was Madara. He knew the tales of the legendary shinobi, he knew his aims, he knew Madara, he thought he knew himself. 

 

Then, Minato sensei. 

 

He had been doing such a good job of detaching his emotions. His heart had died with Rin - his emotions were gone too. Love was worthless in the world of shinobi, he had concluded. Even Pain - before that Naruto kid changed him - thought the same. Love leads to sacrifice, which leads to hatred … then you know pain. 

 

But he couldn't help but stop for a fraction of s moment, emotions that he had thought dead surging up once again inside him, at the sight of his old sensei. 

 

He still looked the same. Same blue eyes, yellow hair, even with the cloak emblazoned with the letters “Fourth Hokage”, he was still Minato sensei, their sensei, but from his perspective, Obito - Madara - was just an enemy to Konoha. An enemy to kill. 

 

There was no recognition in those bright blue eyes. Nothing.

 

And that hurt him so much more than he'd expected. 

 

From that moment, Uchiha Obito truly disappeared, forced down into the dark depths of his mind, forgotten. 

 

Obito was weak. He wasn't needed.

 

It was Madara who unleashed the kyuubi on Konoha. Madara attacked Kushina and the Fourth as their son was born. Madara unleashed the monster which costed both of them their lives.

 

And then, of course, he became Tobi. 

 

Short, black hair. A bright orange mask that stuck out against his black and red Akatsuki robes. Whiny. Clumsy. Almost overly affectionate, in some strange way. Unskilled, compared to the others. A sense of humour everyone seemed to find annoying. 

 

Even from watching from inside the Spiral Zetsu’s body, it was almost as if Obito had returned.

 

But Tobi wasn't Obito, and Obito wasn't Tobi.

 

Obito was dead. Tobi wasn't him. 

 

And it was Madara who declared the Fourth Ninja War.

 

But it was not Madara who became the Juubi’s jinchurikki. It was not Madara who stood by as destruction and death ravaged the battlefield. 

 

He had stood by the reincarnated Uchiha Madara, and suddenly he was a nobody again. 

 

The price he had to pay for the life that Madara had given him when he was on the brink of death was high. He became just another pawn, another tool to use and dispose of. 

 

Black Zetsu was right. He was just trash. Trash who had betrayed both sides, trusted by nobody. No matter what Kakashi or Minato sensei or the Naruto kid and his friends would say, he knew that Black Zetsu was right.

 

He really was nothing.

 

“Hey, Tobi or not Tobi! You haven't gone back to the boring, unartful land of the living, have you?” 

 

Deidara. Oops. He'd completely zoned out. 

 

“... Um …” 

 

“So, who are you?” 

 

“... I don't know.” That was the only answer - the only honest answer he could give. “I honestly don't know,” he said, and as much as he hated it, he could almost hear the plaintive questioning in his voice, seeking an answer, an identity. He didn't want to be a nobody. 

 

If only Obito hadn't died. 

 

“You are really something, hm …” Deidara pokes around at a random ball of light that floated into them. “Daring to zone out and leave me hanging for five whole minutes … when you could be admiring my art …” 

 

Obito figited. Now that he wanted to tell someone, tell them everything, he suddenly had no idea what to say. 

 

“Well, then, Tobi. Or not-Tobi. You can figure out your name later on, but tell me how the hell you came to Akatsuki first. Or are you dumber than I expected? In which case -” 

 

“U-uh! I will! Just listen! Dont blow me up, sempai, I haven't told anyone everything yet!” 

 

“- hm.”

 

Obito sighs, and sits down on the floor of the afterlife. He felt drained of strength, like he'd just been running for a whole day with no stopping. 

 

“Well … I used to be Obito. Uchiha Obito. I was a shinobi in the Hidden Leaf village, a boy from the Uchiha clan, the most prestigious and the pride of the village … until, of course, Itachi killed everyone. But still, Sasuke lives. I wonder if anyone will ever know Itachi's true intentions … anyway. I was Uchiha Obito, a genin in a three man team under Minato sensei, the future Fourth Hokage, with my two teammates … Hatake Kakashi, the orphan son of the White Fang, annoyingly skilled and always telling me off for something or the other … and Nohara … Rin … she …” and something closes up his throat and Obito had to pause, to free himself from the sudden feeling of breathlessness. 

 

Deidara is watching him without a word, watching him with an intensity that he never watched Tobi with. 

 

“And what?” 

 

Obito swallows. 

 

Deidara humphs and crosses his arms. “If you're going to stand around all day reminiscing about my art do it somewhere else, I want to know everything, hm!” 

 

So Obito tells him. 

 

He tells him from the start - from Team Minato, from that fateful mission, from his “death”, crushed under the rock and giving his Sharingan in a last gift for his best friend. He tells him about Madara, old, white, weak but somehow still utterly intimidating, about Swirly and White Zetsu, about escaping from the rock tomb he was imprisoned in and racing to Rin and Kakashi, and how he arrived late, seeing his best friend kill the girl he had promised to protect. He told him about the anguish, the explosion of fury that awakened his new Sharingan, about the rush of rage that reduced his memories of the fight to anger, blood, and death. The utter feeling of the loss of faith in this world, a world which allowed such people like Rin to die such a cruel death, a world where there would never be peace, a world where there would always be pain. 

 

Deidara listened. 

 

Obito paused, and sneaked a glance at the blond. His hair was falling over half his face, as usual, his high ponytail moving gently in a breeze he couldn't feel. His bright blue eyes stared at him. “That's already a lot, hm.” 

 

“That's only the beginning.”

 

Obito starts figiting at the lack of response from Deidara, unsure whether to carry on or not. Perhaps the boy would scorn him, or worse, not believe him. Perhaps he would leave, and Obito would be stuck forever, wandering, lost, in this white glowing emptiness, recalling memory after memory, the pain and regret fresh in his mind. 

 

“The idiotic clumsy masked goofball certainly was more than I expected, hm …” the blond glances up with an expression that wasn't a frown or a smile, but Obito knows that that face means to carry on. 

 

Deidara was taking this seriously. 

 

The rest of Obito’s story is on the tip of his tongue, and he glances up one last time, just to make sure. 

 

The boy in front of him nods. 

 

And Obito carries on.

  
  
  
  
  


“I wonder how many times I could have killed you in the time you took to say all that, hm …” Deidara says aloud, after a few long seconds of silence following the last word. Obito waits. He's said it all now.

 

Although, he's already dead, so there's nothing much more he can do.

 

He turned back to the “good” side, he helped Naruto and his friends to defeat Kaguya, dying in the process (oh well, at least he saved Kakashi once again, that's something to brag about to Rin), lent Kakashi both his Sharingans (admittedly he did make a pretty awesome susanno), and died again after saying goodbye as friends. 

 

But now he's dead for real this time …

 

“How dare Kisame not say anything, hm,” Deidara growls, snapping Obito back to reality - or whatever this strange white dimension of death was. “He'd been trusted with like the biggest secret ever of the real leader of Akatsuki's identity and he just goes and …”

 

“Maybe it was because it was he biggest secret ever that he didn't say anything?” Offered Obito helpfully. “Or maybe -”

 

“... gets himself killed,  _ after _ somehow allowing his powerful chakra-filled sword to get into the hands of the Eight Tails, and makes his own sharks eat him alive. The  _ nerve,  _ hm!” 

 

“...” Obito doesn't really know what to say to that, and just shrugs. “He was always one of the more loyal-ish ones, I guess?”

 

“- but we're not here to complain about the pathetic, un-artistic deaths of the other Akatsuki members,” the blond cuts in. “I suppose you're waiting for me to give an answer, but if you think about it, what kind of answer could I give? What kind of answer are you expecting?”

 

Obito just mouths wordlessly. “I don't know.”

 

“There’s a lot of things you don't know, hm ...Are you sure you're not Tobi? You're just as dumb as he was.” Tapping his fingers on the folds of his cloak, Deidara looks up. “Still, I _can_ see a little bit of that annoying clumsy orange goofball in you, and as much as it pains me to say it, it was weird without someone tagging after me calling me senpai and me beating him up every three minutes.” 

 

Obito just stares. Now that he had no fixed character to keep up, and no Swirly to help him or randomly take over his body, he had no idea how to react to things. 

 

“But,” continued the blond haired boy, silencing Obito’s thoughts, “As much as Tobi was almost likeable, I think you are much more interesting. I'll be able to make a finer art out of you.”

  
And for once, Obito knows that Deidara isn't talking about his bombs.


End file.
